


Drink Me Under

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Mild Smut, Reader-Insert, Sex in a Car, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 03:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Song fic with lyrics from Backseat Serenade by All Time Low.Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	Drink Me Under

You had me at come over boy  
I need a friend

Morgan never got in deep; that wasn’t his way, only if for no other reason than lack of time. But he’d had no choice in this matter and now he was in over his head, drowning in the waves of emotion he never expected to feel, swimming deeper into it instead of heading back to shore. 

It would’ve been smarter to turn around and never look back. He didn’t have the time to dedicate to a relationship, but after months of lazy lovemaking in the back of their cars he wanted more. He wanted to know more about her - had she been burned before? Is that why she’d told him months back that their intense affair hd to stay exactly as it was?

Backseat serenade  
Dizzy hurricane

At the time, he assumed he’d be okay with that. He’d been so tired of sleeping alone; she was beautiful, available and looking for exactly what he was, a good time after a tough time. One drink turned into more, and then one drunken night turned to meeting once a month, and more recently a few times a week if time permitted. 

Her skin tasted of sweet salt and reminded him of a summer’s day. Each kiss brought him deeper and deeper into the water, and he was more than willing to drown. Moans filled his ears - a backdrop for his daily life, becoming more of a distraction day by day. He craved the gravelly sweetness of her voice more and more - wanted the feeling of her sweat-slick skin under his, needed it, but every time he even slightly pressed the issue, she’d avoid giving an answer.

Now he was infatuated with a woman he couldn’t have, because she was unavailable for one reason or another. Breaking it off should’ve been something he did once he’d started to develop feelings, but he couldn’t. 

\---Y/N: Hey Morgan. You able to meet at my place? I’ve had a really awful week.

As he stared at the message on the screen, he went through the options in his mind. One - ignore the message. But that would juvenile. The second option was to text her and just tell her that he couldn’t tonight and find the courage another night to break it off. The third was to tell her exactly how he felt and see what happened. And the last was to text her back that he’d be over in a few minutes, because unlike every other night, when she’d texted him to see what was up or how he was doing, tonight she’d asked for him. And he wanted to give of himself - even if the action seemed selfish. 

\--- M: I’ll be over in about ten minutes.

Whiskey Princess  
Drink me under, pull me in

The minute he’d walked into her apartment, he’d smelled it on her - the heaviness of alcohol so thick it took his breath away. “What’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely concerned. Their relationship was sexual; they didn’t connect in this way, so her asking for him was out of the ordinary and slightly off-putting. “What happened? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I told you I grew up with a single father, right?” She had mentioned that. It was one of the few things he knew about her that wasn’t based in the bedroom. He nodded and allowed her to continue. “He was recently diagnosed with dementia. I had to put him in a home and I hate myself for it. My father hates me.”

His heart sunk at her confession. He couldn’t imagine having to do that to his mother, but it was for the best. She couldn’t help him as much as professionals could. “He doesn’t hate you,” he said reflexively, lifting his hand to her cheek and wiping the tears away. “His mind isn’t what it used to be, but deep down he knows you love him and that you did what was best for him.”

“It doesn’t feel like it,” she said softly. A curtain of tears fell down her cheeks in waves and although Morgan wanted to run to protect his own heart, he stepped in closer and kissed her tears away.

When he pulled away for a moment, she looked at him with pleading eyes. She couldn’t manage to say the words, ask the question for which she wanted an answer, but he knew what she wanted; she wanted him to stay. And he would. If he could make her forget for even a couple of hours, it would be better than drinking herself into oblivion.

I throw you up against the wall  
We’ve seen it all before  
But this one’s different  
It’s deliberate

As he snaked his arms around her waist and lifted her up against the wall, he felt her move against him with a desperation he hadn’t felt from her before. It was a like a drug; he needed more of it. Before, she had been the one to take control; it was one of the things that drew him to her at the start of this whole thing, but she was allowing him to take the lead, craning her head back and exposing her skin for his sweet assault. “I need you,” she whispered, ghosting her hands up the smooth muscles of his back and removing his shirt before sending it to the ground. Again, he pulled away, a silence hanging between them, but neither did anything to fill it, letting it play out before going back to what they were doing. She needed him. He tried not to make a big deal out of it; it very well could have been something she said in the heat of the moment and drowning in sadness, but his heart couldn’t help but feel more.

She clung to him and molded into his embrace as he walked them into her bedroom. Maybe one day, one day soon, he would bring up his growing feelings for her with her, but for now, he was going to tell her without words what she was starting to mean to him.

The value of this moment lives in metaphor


End file.
